


Fruitful

by Amymel86



Series: Jonsa S7 Summer Challenge [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jon arranged the Stag Night, Jon's Pyp's best man, Jonsa Summer Challenge, Modern AU, alcohol infused fruits, guess who's the 'entertainment'?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 07:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11459373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: Day 1 of the Jonsa S7 Summer Challenge - Food & DrinkJon is Pyp's best man and has been trusted to organise the groom's 'last night of freedom' - his stag night.





	Fruitful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivilove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/gifts).



> Yup - I had ideas for both prompts for today - plus, I heard it was Vivilove's birthday the other day, so happy belated Birthday lovely!!! 
> 
> As you guys probably know - I'm British, so a Stag Night = Bachelor Party and Jelly = Jello :-)

 

**Ros: My chaperone bailed.**

**Jon: Chaperone? lol have we been catapulted back to the Victorian era?**

**Ros: No SMART ASS - if my girl doesn’t have a chaperone, I might need to cancel your booking for tonight.**

**Jon: What? Don’t do this to me Ros! It’s Pyp’s stag night!**

**Ros: I know! I know! But my girls have to have someone there in case you lot get too ‘handsy’. I’m not putting any girls on my books in danger just so you and your mates get to see some tits. It’s our policy for private bookings Jon, I’m sorry.**

**Jon: They’re good guys - she won’t be in any danger - God Ros! What kind of animals do you take us for?**

**Ros: All men are animals. Especially when fuelled with drink and with a naked girl in front of them. I’m not comfortable sending her to you on her own Jon - she needs a guy there to make sure she’s safe.**

**Jon: Ok, ok point taken. I’m pretty certain I could keep them in check. Can I be that guy? I’ll keep any of them from getting handsy. They’ll listen to me.**

**Ros: I’ll ask my girl if she’s happy with that and let you know.**

**Jon: Ok, thanks Ros.**

**Ros: If this ends badly I’ll be wearing your balls as ugly earrings.**

Jon sniggered at her last text message and hoped that Ros would come through for him. Trying to organise this stag party had been one pitfall after another what with their preferred bar being shut down and the paint-balling company claiming no evidence of his booking.

“Everything alright?” Grenn asked with a mouthful of curry. They’d decided on a local Indian restaurant for their pre-drinks meal.

“Yeah...yeah....it’s just-”

“Lemme try a bit of yours” Grenn  interrupts with a mumble as he’s trying to dip his naan bread into Jon’s lamb bhuna. Jon grunts disapprovingly and practically forms a shield with his arm to protect his plate.

“You know my policy - I don’t share my food.” 

Grenn shrugs and rolls his eyes “Your friend better come up trumps with the stripper mate, Pyp deserves a good eyeful” he grins around his mouthful. Jon nods with a forced smile before nervously raking a hand through his hair.

Jon had met Ros at an evening Business and Accounting course that he’d taken a few years ago to help with his web developement venture with Sam. He hadn’t known at the time that Ros was there to brush up on her accountancy skills in order to keep a firm hold on her escort and exotic dancer agency’s finances.

So, when Pyp had asked him to be best man at his wedding (and knowing that the lads would expect a stripper) he’d turned to her to help him out with the stag night. He was only just now beginning to regret that decision as his leg bounced up and down nervously awaiting a text from Ros. The day had been disappointing so far and he was already mentally trying to recall where the nearest strip club was as his back-up plan when his phone buzzed.

**Ros: Alright - I found a girl on my books who is willing to do the job with you as her chaperone. I’m warning you Snow, if she comes back to me unhappy, it won’t be good for my business - OR FOR YOU!**

**Jon: Thank you Ros!! I’ll take care of her - I promise!**

**Ros: Damn straight you will. You’ll have to help her set up too. She’ll be in the function room at the Red Keep Hotel at 10pm.**

Jon smiled as he pocketed his phone and took another swig of his beer before feeling the vibrations in his pocket and hearing the little ‘ding’ noise go off.

**Ros: You better be sober.**

With a groan, Jon hands over his bottle to a confused looking Pyp and orders a coke.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Is there a ‘Mr Snow’ here?” the hotel reception clerk asked whilst reading his name from a notepad and looking up at the group of men all in high spirits for Pyp’s night.

“That’s me.”

“The young lady is already in function room B Mr Snow, she asked me to send you along once you got here. Your friends can wait in the bar whilst you set up.”

Jon thanked the man behind the desk, shrugging off the drunken whooping, hollering and lewd remarks from the lads before wandering towards the function rooms, wondering exactly how much ‘set up’ is involved for a stripper.

_Perhaps she has portable pole?_

Figuring that she would probably like to meet her ‘chaperone’ before the rest of the party pile in for their fun, he knocked on the door that had a little brass plaque saying ‘Room B’.

“Come on in” he heard her call.

“Hey I’m -” Jon froze as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Red - red was all he saw. A copper fall of tousled tresses decorating the back of the woman inside the room.  _Ygritte_ , he thought, as a flame of panic licked up and down his body from beneath his skin at memories of his ex. Memories of shouting matches and frustrating arguments stung his mind.

“Hi, I’m -” the woman said, turning around with a bright smile that faltered once she locked eyes with him.. 

_Not Ygritte. Definitely not Ygritte. Worse.....or better, I can’t decide._

“Jon?....Oh my Gods!  _Jon_   _Snow_?” the girl exclaimed, an amused look crossing her face. Jon felt rooted to the spot as she started walking towards him, he’s pretty sure he’s gaping too. “It’s me, Sansa Stark...we went to school together, do you remember?” 

_Oh you mean the girl I had a crush on in only the way a lovesick teenager can? The girl that used to star in my adolescent wet dreams? The girl who was out of my league, but yet I somehow still count as ‘the one that got away’ because I never had the balls to just suck it up and ask you out to see if you might perhaps, possibly, maybe give me the time of day?......... Oh yeah - I remember you. Fuck._

“Um...yeah...I think so.”

She was gorgeous - she always had been - with her opalescent skin, summer sky eyes and cherry blossom lips. Jon remembers how, back in school, she used to be terribly self-conscious of her braces - nearly always trying to hide her smile - Jon had only thought that this made her even more endearing. It was one of his favourite things about her.

But gone were the braces and the adolescent uncertainty, in its place was a  _woman_.  A woman who was walking towards him like she’d just stepped out from one of his teenage fantasies, wearing nothing but a smile and a black silky robe that came to just above her knees. 

“I remember you” she says, somehow making Jon gulp. This close up, he can see she has a slight sweeping of golden eyeshadow and a barely-there pink sheen to her lips. 

_This isn’t happening. THIS. ISN’T. FUCKING. HAPPENING._

“Um...Do you?”

“Mmm-hm” she nods, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she’s swaying her hips slightly and loosely wrapping her arms about herself. Jon is suddenly taken by the fact that she has pink sparkly toenails and a silver ankle bracelet that looks like a daisy-chain. he tries to distract himself with the ugly swirly patterned carpet of the function room.

“Yeah - you helped me with my technology project that time when I nearly started crying in the library. I had had  _such_  a bad day and was so frustrated - do you remember that?”

_You mean the one and only time I actually spoke to you?....And it was about circuit boards._

“Yeah...I...I remember that” Jon mumbles, looking at the floor and nervously scratching at his shoulder through the neck of his shirt.

“I managed to scrape a B for that project because of you - you were my hero!” she beams, making Jon feel a little light-headed. The large function room suddenly seems too small, like the air had been sucked right out of it. There’s an unmanned bar in the corner of the room and Jon would very much like to stick his head under the optics and douse himself in gin right now.

“So” she says brightly and abruptly, breaking the pause that had settled between them “you’re gonna be my chaperone tonight?” Jon nods as a suspiciously squeaky noise escapes his throat. “Great!” Sansa exclaims before pausing in thought “‘us knowing each other’ isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” She asks as she plays with her necklace, bringing the little daisy pendant up to her lips as she awaits his answer. Jon shakes his head before forcing a gulp past the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“No...err...” he knits his brow at nothing in particular “no, that’s not a problem.”

“Great!” Sansa repeats with a nod and turns to go back to the table she had been standing by. Jon tries and fails not to stare at her ass as the silky robe shifts over her curves with her movement.

_Be a fucking gentleman Jon. You’re meant to be her chaperone._

“Ros told me you’d be good at keeping your friends in check” she calls over her shoulder.

_Them? Yeah....Me?....Not so sure._

“Uh...yeah...they’re good guys - you won’t get any trouble, I promise.”

“Good to know” Sansa says as she hauls a backpack onto the trestle table “but I feel better knowing you’re here just in case.” Jon tries not to think too much on that and wanders over curiously as she starts pulling out various sized pieces of Tupperware. “Are you alright to help me set up?”

“Sure, yeah...What do you need me to do?” Jon asks, absentmindedly picking up one of her tubs and peering through the clear plastic at it’s contents.

_Strawberries?_

“I need you to help arrange the fruit and vodka jelly” she says in a matter-of-fact manner as she pushes another large trestle table forward and wastes no time in whipping off her robe.

_Fucking hell. Those are-....Wow..._

As Jon stands there, frozen still, pulse thumping in his ears and blood rushing to other places, Sansa daintily hops onto the table wearing nothing but the teeniest, tiniest nude coloured thong and her daisy themed jewellery glinting under the room’s low lights. She artfully arranges her hair in a fan around her head as she lays down. Jon gulps at the amount of creamy skin on display and half entertains the idea of running out of the room but finds that he couldn’t even if he tried, as he seems to be rooted to the spot.

“Jon?” Sansa asks. “Jon? Can you arrange the fruit on me?” she nudges him out of his stupor after getting no response.

“ _On you_?” he croaks.

Sansa leans up on an elbow to look at him. “Well, yeah - that  _is_  the point of a human platter?”

“A human platter?”

“For your friend’s stag?....Jon?...Are you alright?”

_Oh yeah...I’m just in a room....with a practically NAKED SANSA STARK....and she wants me to put fruit and jelly on her tits - I’m fine...THIS IS FINE!_

Jon’s widened eyes flit from Sansa’s breasts back to the Tupperwear in his hand and back again. He licks his lips and clears his throat. “I...I thought you were a strip-...a dancer?”

“Well yes, but Ros said it was a platter booking?” She asked, looking concerned now as she sat up and stared at her backpack  “I didn’t bring my music....will your friends be disappointed with this option?”

“No!...No, no, no” he says in quick succession, shaking his head, wondering how anyone could possibly be disappointed with any form of Sansa Stark... let alone one in a state of undress.

“So that’s a ‘no’ then?” she says with a smirk and a hint of sarcasm as she lays back down. Jon finds himself doing little else but staring for a while (and perhaps wondering if he could manage to re-arrange himself discreetly) until the silence is broken by Sansa pointedly clearing her throat.

“Oh!...err...sorry!” he scrambles, walking forward, like he’s moving towards something to be feared - and if he was being truthful, he  _is_  shitting himself a bit.

Standing close to the table with  _so much_  Sansa Stark laid out before him was almost suffocating. Jon felt the colour rise in his cheeks as he’s rendered to feeling like a nervous schoolboy again, rather than the 28 year old adult human man he actually is. He fumbles with the lid of the food container, a strong sweet scent mixed with the sharpness of alcohol hits him instantly.

“Those are infused with vodka” Sansa supplies with a grin “I’ve got pineapple, peaches, strawberries, cherries and some little cubes of vodka jelly too.”

Jon picks out a halved strawberry and feels like he wants to swallow his own tongue. “That’s a lot of vodka.”

“Well it’s not good to mix drinks is it?” she smiles like she’s not currently clothed in nothing but a minuscule scrap of fabric. Jon wets his lips as he contemplates the fruit he’s holding aloft in his fingers before scanning her body laid out and wondering where to begin, or  _how_  to begin. “Start with my legs and work your way up” Sansa offers, prompting Jon’s muscles to actually move.

He works in silence for a while, placing pieces of the alcohol soaked fruit onto her soft skin, his fingers slowly coming down from their tremble, even when they graze the flesh of her thigh. He wonders if she notices how he seems to hold his breath or how his whole body is frozen, focusing intently on this one task, this one pineapple chunk, this one cherry half, or this one slice of peach. He concentrates on the aesthetics of the fruit, making sure there’s not too much pineapple clustered together or that the peach is at an equal distance apart. The little green jelly cubes prove difficult to balance, especially when he reaches the expanses of her smooth stomach, rising and falling gently with her breathing.

“You’re going to have to cover my underwear too Jon.” Sansa says, breaking the deafening silence. Jon makes a strange noise of acknowledgement that lands somewhere between a grunt and a squeak, the gesture makes her chuckle. “So what do you do now?” Sansa asks, sensing Jon might need something to distract from the task at hand.

“Um...well, I started a web development company with a friend of mine....it’s, uh...it’s going well, actually” he said, fingers brushing the soft silky fabric as he places a piece of peach at he apex of her thighs. 

“Always knew you were a clever cookie” Sansa says with fondness in her voice.

“How about you?..Erm...what have you done since leaving school?”

“Oh, well, I studied the terribly sensible subject of Business Management, managed to land a job as the PA of the CEO of a rather large Marketing Alalytics company - only to realise a few years later that, actually, I didn’t want any part of the corporate pie at all.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope” she shakes her head “so I quit and went back to Uni to study Textile Design. I’m in my second year now.”

Jon looks up to her face for what must be the first time in a little while “that’s very brave...to undertake a whole new and uncertain career path.”

“Yeah...or stupid and impulsive” Sansa snorts to herself.

“Sometimes stupid and impulsive is a good thing” Jon says after a moment of quiet thought and arranging pieces of fruit on her  ribs.

“Would it be stupid and impulsive of me to admit that I harboured a little crush on you at school?” Sansa says, rendering Jon temporarily immobile before he croaked out his next words.

“D-did you?”

“Yeah - I think it was the glasses.... I have a thing for hot guys in glasses.”

All thoughts and ability to form cohesive audible words left Jon in that moment, so he bit his lip as Sansa watched him concentrating on arranging the fruit upon her skin, somehow not really realising that he had reached her breasts until a brush of his fingertip stroked her nipple causing Sansa to shiver.

“Ihadacrushonyoutoo” he blurted all too quickly, making Sansa giggle and smile up at him thoughtfully.

“If only we had known” she sighs wistfully.

“....Yeah” Jon agrees as his eyes get caught on a small dribble of crimson cherry juice slowly rolling down the outside curve of her breast. Without thinking, he swipes the sweet sticky liquid and sucks it from the pad of his finger. His eyes flew to Sansa’s face when he heard her breath catch in her throat.

“Taste good?” she whispered. 

“...Um..yeah.”

Sansa stares at his lips and the air between them seems charged with something unknown but no less delicious than the sweetness upon her skin. “Why don’t you try one of the peaches?”

Jon moves without hesitation, lowering his head to her chest and covering a piece of fruit with his mouth. The slip-slide of the sticky juice makes the lick of his tongue against her skin even more pleasurable and Jon hopes his groan can be attributed to his approval of the taste of the fruit itself.

As he rises, he notes how her pupils have dilated and her legs squirm a fraction, managing to dislodge some fruit and jelly, the food tumbling to the table and floor.

“Clients normally pick up the fruit with their hands” 

_Shit._

Jon tries to chew rapidly so that he can swallow the obstacle in his mouth that’s preventing his profuse and no doubt rushed and embarrassed apology.

“Try a cherry” Sansa interrupts his panic. Jon swallows the lump of peach and it’s almost painful. He reaches for a cherry half by her navel before she catches his wrist in her hand. “With your mouth again.”

**15 minutes later...**

“Come on mate!” Pyp shouts as he and his other stag party members thump on the locked door.

“We’ve been in that bar for  _ages,_ she’s gotta be ready by now” Grenn adds before turning to ask the group “it was room B, yeah?”

One of the double doors suddenly cracks open with a squeak and a shirtless Jon Snow peeks out from behind it. Pyp’s brows rise high upon his head as he takes in the state of his best man. His beard looks suspiciously sticky and there’s a pinkish dribble stain down his chin and chest. A piece of strawberry is caught in his messy hair and what looks like lime green jelly is smashed against his lower stomach.

“What the hell happened to you?” 

“Nothing” Jon smiles slyly.

“Riiiight...come on lads” Grenn chuckles before eagerly urging the party forward into the room. Jon places a sticky hand on his friend’s chest, halting him and the others.

“Sorry guys, no show tonight.”

“Whaddamean?” one of the drunken men slurs from behind Pyp. 

“You know my policy” Jon shrugs with a shit-eating grin “I don’t share my food.” 

The door slams shut on the faces of the stag party as they glance at each other in confusion and listen to the lock slide into place.

 


End file.
